Hit 'Em Back Harder
by CIS Students
Summary: Eight years after the disaster on Isla Nublar, poacher gang H.A.T.E.S. head to the island in order to capture rare and extinct specimens. But when the leader of the gang finds out her enemy and, once-upon-a-time love, is after her, a simple hunt turns into a dramatic chase.


**Hit 'Em Back Harder**

 **Chapter 1:**

 _Maybe she should just do it. She was so close and he would be dead before he knew what hit him. But she felt something…stir inside her. She quickly pushed the feeling aside and took aim at the boy's blond head. She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger._

Winter sat up, alert, blinking to rid herself of the dream. No- _memory_. She had promised herself that she wouldn't remember. That was why she began hunting. To blot out her life. Now, she didn't need to remember. She looked around the dark room, she turned over in her sheets and found her cell. She dialed a number and said, "Make ready. We leave tomorrow."

Winter paced the configured office that overlooked the Costa Rican wharf, making sure that H.A.T.E.S., her hunting organization, finished loading their hired cargo ship and was ready to go. She had a very... interesting prize in mind. She had read an older newspaper clipping telling the events of a 'wildlife tragedy' 8 years ago. Winter hoped the animals on Isla Nublar were still alive. She looked down at her second-in-command and gave him a signal. The hunt was on.

The grey ship rolled back and forth on the blue frothy waves. Many of Winter's crew was sick and 'out of commission'. Just as the ship met a swell, their hired Costa Rican captain appeared on the deck. Winter materialized next to him.

"No voy a ir más lejos." the captain of the cargo boat whispered.

"Qué quieres decir? Nosotros le estamos pagando a llevarnos todo el camino!" Winter argued.

"No puedo. Lo llaman ' Los Cinco Muertes' por una razón. Usted nadar o encontrar otro barco!"

He would not take them all the way to the island for reasons Winter did not know. "No voy a volver ahora!" She turned around to face her group of highly trusted poachers. Winter looked directly at a heavily-muscled man.

"Can you drive this boat?" she asked him. He gave an imperceptible nod of his head, and walked towards the helm, making the captain wonder what was going on. With a cruel smile, Winter turned around and suddenly pulled out her automatic pistol from her military-style holster and fired at him. Three bullets slammed into the captain's chest, leaving it a bloody mess. "Get rid of him," Winter told the two men standing behind her. Hearing the splash of the water and satisfied that that inconvenience had been taken care of, she gave her back to them and headed towards the second level to make sure they had all their 'gear'. She opened a hatch and jumped over the stairs. Looking at the labeled boxes, she knew they had almost everything: C4, Jeeps, provisions, nets and unassembled steel cages, weaponry and firearms, darts that inject a drug she was able to buy off a drug-dealer in Colombia, and even fresh clothes. The only thing that was missing was their priority target. Then, the boat gave a sudden lurch, sending Winter into a crate of jeeps. Jumping up, she attempted to climb the steps to the top deck, trying to figure out what was going on. As she pushed open the hatch, crew were scrambling to tie down anything loose on the deck. They were in the middle of a huge storm. Giant waves crashed down, causing the ship to rock and lurch while heavy rain pelted down like stones. Winter looked up only to see an unforgiving monster wave looming over their ship.

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She turned to see the look on her crew's faces. She didn't think any of them would survive. Just then the wave slammed into their ship, flipping it over. Everything went dark.

 _'Move, Winter! Go!' he shouted. Winter could not see him, only follow his voice. The ash and dust clouded her vision and made it harder to breathe. 'Owen!' she screamed back at him, trying to locate him. Just then, huge flames erupted and Winter flew backwards, her rifle breaking her fall. Tears streamed down her face. She didn't care about herself; she didn't think he had survived_.

Winter opened her eyes, disoriented, trying to figure out where she was. She could only see the blue of the sky and the yellow of the sand. She sat up and caught sight of what was left of the grey cargo ship. The day's previous events came rushing back to her. She swung her head left and right, only to see her crew in the same state she had been in: unconscious. She closed her eyes and counted to ten; when she opened them, she was enveloped in black shadow. "Butch; fancy seeing you alive," she stated, tilting her head to better see his face. It was meant to be sarcastic but there was an element of playfulness, though she _was_ glad he was alive. "How's everyone else?" Not that Winter cared, but she would need everyone to finish her 'task'.

"Most of us are _alive_ , but a few are dead or unconscious. We want to go and salvage what we can and then we were going to wait for your _orders._ " Butch responded, but it was as if he was accusing her. Winter let it slide, as she usually did with Butch.

"You do that." she replied, looking away. After all this time, Butch still reminded her of the way- _No._ She brought herself out of her thoughts, she stood up, gave her back to Butch, and walked away. She didn't know what to think. She walked around and found herself facing a wall of mangrove trees. A terrifying bellow echoed across the jungle. She had to begin.

 **Chapter 2:**

' _This had better be worth it. This damn jungle!'_ Winter thought as branch after branch hit her in the face. If this whole 'trip' turned out as it should, she swore that she would never complain about tropical jungles ever again.

Winter held up her hand. Butch signaled to everyone else that it was time for a break. Everyone sighed with relief and set down their gear. Winter walked over to a tree away from everyone else and pulled out a map, satellite phone with GPS from one of the many pockets on her cargo pants. According to the GPS and map, they were a quarter-mile from the first entrance to the Hammond's Genetics Lab. They would need to set up their explosives. With a sigh, she pulled out a stainless steel water bottle from her backpack and threw back her long neck. She was only dimly aware of Butch when he placed himself next to her; she was too absorbed in digging in her backpack.

"How much farther? The others are pretty annoyed with all this walking around," he said, although 'others' meant him as well.

"Well, what did they expect, a tour?" Winter spat back at him. It was a bluff threat, although, she was not in a mood to listen to other's complaining. "If you would like, you can tell them that they will put up with walking for another mile or so, and then we can set up our charges," she said turning away, and changing her mood.

"Right here," Winter stated, pointing down at a large square of moss-covered concrete. Two heavily muscled mercenaries placed two rectangular orange bricks of explosives at opposite corners of the concrete. Winter looked back down at the map she was holding and walked ten paces left and five paces forward. "Here," she said. The two men repeated the same process, only this time, the subject was the sides of a very old door frame. Once again, Winter consulted her map and disappeared into the thick trees, stooping to avoid tree branches and vines. "Over here!" she shouted back to the two men. When they found where Winter was standing, their target was clear: a large concrete cylinder. They placed two charges at the base of the cylinder.

"Ok, let's get back and move on in the morning. The next few charges I need set up are far from here; no point doing it now," said Winter as she slowly examined the darkening sky. Night was falling like a black cloak and it was easy to get lost, and eaten, in this jungle. Winter and the two men started walking back to the hastily made encampment. The plan was to spend the night there and then leave in the morning; apparently there was a nest near to where they were going to set up the rest of their explosives.

It did not take long for Winter to reach the open clearing that was surely hers as it had a fire blazing in the centre. Her men were laughing, but all laughter died out as she entered the clearing. "As you were," she mocked, hinting to her experience as a soldier, which only few of the people there knew of. She walked across the well organized circle of the twenty-three men she entrusted with helping her complete her task, and made it to the edge of the clearing. She opened the backpack that was strapped to her back and pulled out a thin cot and began tying it to two parallel trees. As she finished what she was doing, she caught Butch's eye and beckoned him to where she was sitting. They had things to discuss, but she would let him open. She wanted to hear what he had to say. So she pulled out her automatic pistol and a rag and began to polish the barrel as Butch sat down next to her.

"Why don't you grab a bottle and come join us and have some fun?" He asked, referring to the bottles of whiskey that were being passed around, one in his hand. Everyone was laughing loudly again. Winter gave him a look and said, "I think I'll pass," in a mocking tone. "There will be time for 'fun' later. You can tell them though, that if anyone is drunk tomorrow, they won't wake up, or we'll leave them." Winter meant every word she said, speaking in a tone as if to remind him who was in control. She brushed back her messy, braided blonde hair and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she paused. "Just thinking about a lot. Tomorrow, I want to set up the rest of the charges, and I think I found the nest," she said, changing the subject, and lowering her voice to a whisper. Butch turned to her wearing an expression of both surprise and mirth.

"That's good news. Should we put phase two into action?" He whispered back. No one else in Winter's group knew there was more than one target. They all thought Winter was after the gene codes of Hammond's creations. Screw the genetics; Winter could care less about them.

She had a faraway look in her eyes. "Of course; they will be leaving soon. Then we will have almost everything in place," she answered. That was cue for Butch to act on what they discussed. She took one last look at her encampment and turned around and placed her backpack next to the head of her cot in case she needed to run. The rest would be sleeping in tents. Climbing into her own, she folded her hands over her chest and stared at the canopy. ' _Soon,'_ she thought. _Soon_.

"You guys done?" Winter asked the same two men who were setting up charges the night before. They had nicknamed themselves Bullet and Trigger, and were setting up three more charges before Winter returned to the nest site. Her and Butch had gotten up earlier than everyone else to see if they could find the nest they were talking about. They did and they set up elaborate traps for the animal in target.

Bullet and Trigger looked up. "Yeah, we're done here," Bullet said, throwing three extra bricks of C4 back to Winter. She swiftly caught them and tossed them into her backpack. "Let's get back. I need to brief everyone on tonight's 'mission,'" she said, turning away. The two men followed, talking and laughing as they went.

Branches and vines appeared in Winter's face and the insects seemed to be having a feast, yet they had no effect on her. However, she was getting fed up with the branches, so she pulled out a double-bladed machete from its scabbard that hung at her waist and swung at every branch and vine that got in her way. Rather quickly, they reached their new camp site. Hopefully, this time her group would be would be spending more than one night here. It was close to the mission site and it was in a territory they would soon gain control over; they would have no need to fear for intruders.

Seeing how it was early afternoon, no one was in their tents, except Butch who was sleeping. Everyone was playing cards, smoking, or just sprawled out in whatever areas of sun `they could find, the heavy foliage blocking most of it. Winter put away her machete and looked around. She turned to Trigger. "Go get Butch. If he pulls a gun, tell him I sent you." She was answered with a simple nod. Moments later, Butch walked out of the tent he was in with a scowl plastered to his face, Trigger following behind him, looking relieved. Winter pulled out her automatic and fired once in the air.

"Good, I have everyone's attention," she said, addressing the group of H.A.T.E.S. in front of her. "Tonight, we will start hunting at last, something I know everyone here has been waiting for." At this, she was awarded with cheers and hoots from her audience. "However, we will not be killing….yet. The plan is to manipulate our target against an inconvenience we will undoubtedly face. Butch and I have set up netting and steel traps in case of attack. You are to destroy the eggs on sight. When the animals wander in, Trigger and Shot will tranq them. If either of the animals are harmed, I can promise you, the last thing you will see is the dark end of my barrel . Are we clear?" She finished off. Everyone replied merely with nods of agreement. "Then let's go!" she shouted while turning around and marching back into the jungle. Everyone picked up their choice of weapon and followed behind Winter to the nest site. The walk was short, eventless, and extremely quiet until Winter held up her hand, instructing everyone to stop where they were. "We're here." She said as she parted the vines hanging in front of her. There, sitting in the middle of a small clearing, was a nest built with tall walls, filled with twelve large eggs the size of ostrich eggs. With her head still on the other side of the vines, Winter waved her hand, beckoning the men to approach the nesting site and shoot the eggs. Multiple shoots echoed through the quiet jungle as the eggs splattered open, spilling liquid over the sides of the nest.

Turning around to once again face her men, Winter held up her hand and closed her fist, signalling for everyone to stop firing.

"Excellent. Soon, the targeted animals will be walking into that clearing in about three minutes, alerted to our presence thanks to the noise of our firearms. Everyone is going to climb into the surrounding trees. Trigger, Shot, you will wait for my signal. Do not underestimate these animals." She stated, turning her head so everyone would had a clear view of their leader's face. With a smile curling her lips, she turned back into the clearing, everyone following behind her, climbing up into the trees. Once everyone was high enough, she picked her own tree with no one situated in it, jumped for the second branch and easily hoisted herself up. She grabbed branch after branch with ease, not a single one brittle or breaking. Just as she reached her desired height, two bizarre creatures stalked into the clearing, sniffing the ground tentatively, then looked at each other and hissed. Winter looked at Butch, and smiled to see the look of satisfaction on his face; then she turned to see the faces of her men, and had to hold back a chuckle due to the looks of shock and utter disbelief on their faces. But without further delay, and fear of the creatures noticing their hideout, she whistled two short notes and one long note: the signal for Trigger and Shot to tranquilize the two animals.

Trigger and Shot looked at each other from across their hiding places and nodded. They reached into their pockets and each pulled out a short, brown tranquilizer pistol and loaded two long darts into the barrel and aimed for big muscles so as not to damage vital organs. If they harmed the animals, they were dead. So with a puff of air, they fired. Each dart hit the animals: one got hit on the right upper back leg, and the other, in the flank. Confused and angry, the animals hissed and growled at one another, trying to find the source of the pain. Four to five minutes pass before the first one, with distinct blue markings around its eyes, fell to the ground. The other animal cautiously sniffs the first before following its lead and falling to the ground itself. Upon seeing this, Winter and Butch nimbly jump down from their concealed hiding spots and land close to the fallen animals. Butch hands Winter his rifle after seeing her outstretched hand and she prods the creatures with the end of the barrel. Not seeing the animals move, she performs a long-short-long noted whistle that calls everyone down from the top of the trees.

"What the _hell_ is that?" Asks Bullet when he lands on the ground, eyeing the creatures warily, voicing the question everyone has.

"That is a living specimen of velociraptor, created over eight years ago by a company called InGen. But we are not going to kill this one just yet. There will be time for that later." Winter replied. "You will all return back to camp now, we have a long night ahead of us," she continued with just a hint of a smile. With looks of dismay, everyone starts heading back the way they came, clearly disappointed that they had not even completed one kill.

"What do you think, Butch? You think it'll work?" Winter asked after everyone else was out of earshot.

"Only one way to find out. We have to try. Bring your bag over," Butch responded, referring to Winter's backpack. She walked over to the tree she was sitting in and pulled down her backpack from the second branch. She didn't usually allow people to tell _her_ what to do, but Butch was an exception. As she made her way back to the velociraptors, she opened the largest pocket on her bag, pulled out a hypodermic needle and a small vial of thick, white liquid. She reached the velociraptors and sat down in front of the one with the electric blue markings and filled the needle with the white liquid. Leaning forward, she situated the needle next to where the tranquilizer dart made contact and pressed on the plunger, watching the fluid drain. She scooted over to the second raptor and refilled the needle with the same liquid, once more positioning the needle over the upper right leg and repeated the injection. She then pulled out both tranquilizer darts. Hopefully the raptors wouldn't remember what happened.

"Ok, let's go. I actually want this evening to be enjoyable," Winter stated while pulling out a brown piece of fabric from inside her bag. She threw the fabric next to the raptor with the electric blue markings and stood up. With one last look behind her, she turned around and walked away, Butch following in her wake.

"So far, so good," Butch commented, attempting to strike up a conversation. Winter was not the only one who wanted an 'enjoyable evening'.

"Yes. Things are falling into place remarkably well. Did you set phase two in motion?" Winter replied.

"He should already be there. In case of malfunction, I planned ahead and have a backup," he replied, a note of pride in his voice.

"Excellent. They will be wandering into our claws willingly. How amusing." She praised, happy to see the smile appear on Butch's face. "We're back," she closed, changing her mood, and warning him not to utter one word more.

A silence spread over the encampment as Winter and Butch entered the clearing. For silence was Winter; as quiet as death and as loud as thunder. So she stood there, surveying the faces in front of her, the fire in the center glinting off her green eyes and fair skin, making her look murderous.

"Let me begin by saying that upon the successful completion of our mission, I will be granting each of you another hundred thousand dollars." Winter started. Her announcement was met with loud cheers. She let them go on for a moment before holding up her hand, silencing them.

"I understand if any of you are disappointed in not completing a kill, but things are about to go up in flames soon enough. And we will kill," she finished. She would let them figure out the rest for themselves.

Winter walked through the group and stopped in front of a wooden crate that had somehow survived the shipwreck. Inside were different bottles of tequila, whiskey and other drinks. She pulled out three and handed them to the men that appeared next to her. Without a word, they accepted her 'gift' and headed to the middle of the group. Ignoring the people around her, Winter walked over to a fallen log and sat down, staring into the fire.

 _Flames engulfed her, wrapping around her, tasting her. As she felt the burns, she realized she could not free herself or him. She cried to the night but all was red. She felt someone pulling her arm and was slowly losing focus. She could not see the face of her captor or savior. But_ he _had not-_

"You okay?" Butch asked her, jostling Winter from her thoughts. She did not notice him sit down next to her.

"Hm? Yeah, just thinking," she responded. No one needed to know about her condition. Least of all Butch. "What about you?" She asked, cocking her head and gave him a genuine smile.

"I'm...fine?" Butch answered, a little off his guard. He had seen Winter smile, but not often enough for him to get used to it. Usually, it was after she had killed someone, and even that smile was one of cruelty. Nothing like the one she was giving him now. Noticing this, Winter laughed and turned back to the fire. Butch continued to stare at her and noticed a small mark on the right side of her tanned neck that disappeared under her collar.

"What happened?" He asked, referring to the mark, giving her an expression of both concern and worry.

"Oh, that. That happened a long time ago. It's a long story," she replied. She didn't know if she wanted to tell him or not. If he asked, she would explain.

"I think we have time for that," Butch responded, taking in the scene around him. It would be a long night.

"On my last mission for the military, before I was honourably discharged, my team and I were lured into an ambush and I only survived because he," her voice catching on the word before she continued, "pushed me out of the way when the bomb hit our truck. I didn't make it out of there unscathed, though. What usually happens when you get caught in an explosion? Anyway, what about you? Got any souvenirs?" Winter asked, looking at the scar running down his eye expectantly. She knew Butch's training and background, but she didn't know everything. Some things she was willing to learn. There was more than one reason she picked him as her second-in-command.

Butch began to roll up the sleeve of his jungle fatigues, revealing a long, jagged scar. "Got this in the navy. The boat we were on was bombed, and debris was everywhere. There was...someone...I tried to save, but they...died in the end. Do you have any scars from the animals?"

Winter looked into his hazel eyes and finally copied his example and rolled up her sleeve as well. Four jagged lines ran down from below her wrist and past her elbow, matching Butch's. "I found the last Dire wolf. They were thought to have gone extinct. It attacked and I killed it. It was worth it though. Made a lot of money off his hide." She explained, looking away from the sad expression that seemed out of place on Butch's hardened face. She felt Butch place his arm around her shoulders and tensed, but didn't move away from him. This was his way of showing comfort. She would accept it.

She could feel a cry rising up in her throat and stood up. Winter turned back to the man behind her and uttered a 'thank you', now walking to where her cot was set up. She threw down her backpack and threw herself on the cot. With her head tilted towards the sky, she searched for an opening in the canopy. When she found the opening, she made sure she caught sight of the stars before closing her eyes. She allowed one tear to escape before the nightmares came.

 **Chapter 3:**

Dominic Bastian crouched down, his nose inches from the ground. The temperature was over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit and sweat dripped off his face onto the ground. His knees ached despite the rug-layer's pads he wore. His lungs burned from the harsh alkaline dust, yet Dominic was oblivious to the discomfort. All his attention was focussed on the L-shaped jawbone embedded in the earth in front of him. Working patiently with a dental pick and an artist's camel brush, he exposed the

tiny piece of bone. It was only an inch long and no thicker than his little finger. The teeth were sharp and had the characteristic medial angle. Bits of bone flaked away as he dug, so he paused to paint the bone with rubber cement before continuing to expose it. There was no question that this belonged to an infant carnivore. With any luck, Dominic may be able to find the rest of the skeleton. It would be the first baby carni-

"Hey, Dominic!"

Dominic looked up, blinking in the sunlight. He pulled off his baseball cap and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. He was crouched on the side of an eroded hill in the badlands outside Snakewater, Montana. A clear, blue sky was spread overhead, but blunted hills and exposed outcroppings stretched for miles in every direction. There was not a tree or a bush. Nothing but barren rock, hot sun, and whining wind.

 _"Dominic!_ Visitor!" Yelled Makki, pointing to the east.

Dominic stood up, a barrel-chested man of thirty-eight. At the foot of the hill, he saw the six tipis of his camp, the flapping mess tent and the trailer that served as their field laboratory. He could now see the cloud of dust and the blue Ford platinum bouncing over the rutted road towards them. He couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous scene. On the other hill, kids looked up with interest: they didn't get many visitors here in Snakewater. Most people thought of the badlands to be barren wastelands, so there was much speculation about why anyone would want to come down here. But Dominic knew who was coming and why. So he set down the hill to meet this visitor.

The visitor coughed in the white dust as he slammed the door. "Owen Grady. I'm with the government," he said, extending his hand.

Dominic introduced himself and said, "You look hot. Care for a drink?"

"Hell, yeah." Owen was in his early forties, wearing a grey button up, black leather vest and was holding an old briefcase, his shoes crunching on the rocks as they walked towards the trailer. "How long you guys been out here?" He asked, looking around.

"About sixty cases. We measure time in beer. We start in June with a hundred cases. We've gone through about sixty cases so far." Dominic explained after seeing the confused look on Owen's face.

"Sixty-three to be exact," said Mac Tire Gearg Adair said with a thick Irish accent as they reached the trailer. Dominic was amused to see Owen staring at her. Mac Tire Gearg was wearing cut-off jeans and a work shirt tied at her midriff. She was twenty-three and darkly tanned. Her fiery red hair was pulled back.

"This is Mac Tire Gearg Adair; Irish for 'Red Wolf'. She's very good at what she does and she keeps us going," Dominic said, introducing her.

"What does she do?" Owen asked out of curiosity.

"Paleobotany. I also do the standard field preps. Oh, and you can call me Makki," she purred, smiling a flirty smile. She opened the trailer door and they went inside.

The air conditioning inside the trailer only brought the temperature down to eighty-five degrees, but it seemed cool compared to the noon-day sun. The trailer was filled with long wooden tables with tiny specimens neatly laid out, tagged and labeled. Farther along were ceramic dishes and crocks. The air smelled strongly of vinegar. While Dominic went to the refrigerator, Mac Tire Gearg showed Owen the acidic baths where they dissolved pieces of rock from around the bones.

"Here," said Dominic, thrusting a beer in Owen's hand, and giving another to Mac Tire Gearg who chugged hers.

"We're pretty informal here. You called about...something even I'm not clear on. Want to step into my office?" Dominic asked.

"Sure," Owen said. Dominic led him to the end of the trailer where there was a room with a battered desk and two old chairs.

"Make yourself at home," Dominic invited, closing the door. He placed himself onto one of the chairs, leaned back and thumped his boots up onto the desk. "What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Seeing the opportunity, Owen went straight to work. "Recently, the government has been sending around groups of people to monitor endangered species and poachers. I'm one of those people and I have been tracking a poaching organization by the name of H.A.T.E.S.,Hunting and Acquiring Tropical Endangered Species. We believe to have tracked down their exact location and are requiring paleontological help. I have already assembled a team, and we know what H.A.T.E.S. is looking for. You ever hear about a company called InGen?"

Dominic took in all this information and shook his head. "No, I've never heard of them."

"Well, thirty years ago, a man named John Hammond, owner of InGen, was able to recreate dinosaurs using their DNA mixed with that of frogs. His plan was to set up a theme park on an island outside of Costa Rica, but disaster followed and the animals were exterminated. Twelve years later, InGen redesigned another theme park on the same island once again using dinosaurs. But the park failed ten years later. It's been eight years since anyone set foot on the island due to the rumours of the animals still being alive." Owen informed. He paused and took two sheets of paper out of the briefcase he was carrying before continuing and held them up for Dominic to see.

"These photos were taken three years ago, when they were last are looking for the two heads of H.A.T.E.S. Winter Rose and Butch Prince are both well-trained mercenaries and are on our most wanted list, so to speak. They have been hunting together for the last eight years and are the only ones in H.A.T.E.S. that use their real names." Owen said, lying down the papers for Dominic to observe them. Winter stared up at Dominic with her piercing green eyes. Long, messy, braided blonde hair hung into her eyes and barely covered a dark blotch above her collarbone, her mouth set in a scowl. Dominic shifted his eyes to the picture of Butch and examined his face. Messy brown hair covered his forehead, but did a poor job at concealing the jagged scar running over his left eye. His nose looked as though it had been broken at least twice and his mouth was set in a scowl, just like Winter's. Stubble covered his strong jaw.

"They look as though they are dangerous. What are their backgrounds?" Dominic asked, taking interest in the topic. Owen studied his face before replying.

"Winter is ex-military,thirty-three years old and has been poaching for the last ten years. She met Butch two years later and they became hunting partners. Butch is ex-navy, thirty-two and has been poaching for almost as long as Winter. Other information is either unknown or classified. I came down here to ask if you would join the team. There will be fifteen of us total if you and Mac Tire Gearg accept my offer." Owen said, changing the subject, studying Dominic's face for an answer.

"What is your offer?" Dominic asked, mulling over the idea.

"We will fully fund your digs for a further five years." Owen answered, hoping Dominic would accept the offer. "I will tell you who the main people you will be working alongside if you accept. Alexis and Jake Garcia are the grandchildren of John Hammond and were there when the original Jurassic Park went wrong. They are willing to put an end to what their grandfather started. Leo Estek is a hunter from Nairobi and is providing a defense against the animals we are up against. A friend of mine,Chris White, is also providing arms against both the people and the animals we will be facing." Owen stood up and picked up the pieces of paper and put them back in his briefcase, leaving Dominic to think about his offer. Owen had placed his hand on the doorknob when Dominic asked him to call in Mac Tire Gearg. Owen opened the door, turned around and said yes before walking out.

Dominic sat patiently, waiting for Mac Tire Gearg to enter. When she finally did, he asked her to sit down and told her what Owen told him. "Five years, Makki. The government will fully sponsor us for five years! Think about it. I'll go if you go," he said. But, by judging the look on Makki's face, Dominic knew they would be going.

"I think it's a good idea. So we're going to stop an unstoppable poaching association from killing dinosaurs. Sounds like fun. When do we leave?" Makki asked.

Dominic smiled at her response. "I'll have to ask," he said. "Owen still has to give us some more details. I'll call him in." Dominic stood up, walked over to and opened the door, and called Owen in.

Owen walked into the small room, looking as if though he was trying to keep from smiling. "Dominic has told me that you both are willing to come to Isla Nublar. Tomorrow, go to the airport for ten o'clock, a.m. From there, a private jet will take you to Dallas where you will meet Leo, Alexis and Jake. I will already be in Dallas, however, Chris and the other eight will already be in Isla Nublar by then. From Dallas, you will fly to Costa Rica and take a chopper from there to the island. After that, it's pretty simple: we find Winter," he finished off looking at each of them in turn.

"Well, thank you and have a good afternoon. We'll see you tomorrow," Dominic said, dismissing him.

Owen smiled and then left the room. Dominic and Makki waited until they heard the trailer door close and the truck start. Dominic looked at Makki questioningly.

"Tá tú cinnte faoi seo? Owen raibh lua gur féidir linn a maraíodh. Ní Glacfar na daoine ag iarraidh againn ann," Dominic asked Makki in Irish, confirming her decision. He wanted to know whether or not she still wanted to go, despite the deadly risks.

"Is ea. Is cuma liom an bhfuil mé i mo chónaí nó bás," Makki replied, looking away.

"Let's get ready then. We're leaving tomorrow," Dominic said,switching back to English, his lips curling into a good-natured smile.

Dominic and Makki stood, waiting in the hot Texas sun outside the Dallas airport for their ride. Owen had told them that Jake Garcia would be picking them up at three. It was now four thirty. Dominic looked at his watch and sighed, starting to get annoyed. He surveyed the road in front of them, and seeing the front of a red jeep, was relieved. He nudged Makki, telling her to pick up the rucksack she had brought with her, and doing the same himself. By then, the jeep had pulled up in front of them, the driver honking the horn playfully. Jake was not what Dominic had expected. He had a crew cut, the ends of his brown hair dyed black, and he also had a large piercing in his right ear. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes.

"Whattup?" Jake said, careless to the fact that he was an hour-and-a-half late to pick up the two people in front of him.

Dominic frowned disapprovingly at Jake before opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat, ignoring him. Makki, however, stared at Jake with an admiring look before climbing into the backseat. She didn't care that he was late picking them up.

"Name's Jake Garcia. Owen told me to bring you guys to meet the rest of the gang. Well, at least the people still here in Dallas," Jake grinned. "Chris and his guys already left for Costa Rica, so you'll probably meet them at the island." The car stopped at a light. "Did you see the guys we're after?" he asked, his tone turning serious as he turned around to face Makki.

"Yeah, we saw them," she said as she tried to see past the lens of his glasses.

"And what did you think?" He asked, almost pressing for information.

Makki studied his face and smiled before answering. "This Winter person-" she said with a tone of dislike and jealousy, "-is an interesting character, but I don't like her. Butch, however, is a...kind of…" The idea of going on this trip had appealed to her from the start. Getting away from Dominic's grating voice, or at least being around someone who didn't act like she was some sort of dog just there to fetch all his things for him had certainly done some of the convincing. Butch's looks did the rest. She was about to continue before noticing that their light had turned green. "You have a green," she finished with a jerk of her head.

Jake turned to face the front, turned on the radio, and began driving once more. The rest of the drive carried on in silence, Jake following the road, stopping only for lights. Twenty-five minutes later, he came to a stop outside the Nasher Sculpture Center. Jake turned turned off the radio and hopped out of the jeep.

"We're here," he announced, instructing Dominic and Makki to follow him. Without waiting, he headed towards the front entrance of the museum while pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. He paused, bringing the cigarette to his lips and taking a long drag before walking through the doors. Upon seeing the three other people in the lobby, Jake broke into a happy grin, his cigarette in his hand. As he made his way over to them, Dominic and Makki followed Jake in, their rucksacks slung over their shoulders. Dominic was clearly wearing a disapproving frown again, showing his disappointment at Jake's behaviour. Owen noticed and smiled in an apologetic way and waved the two over. Standing with Owen and Jake was, a tall, lean woman, her hair rather similar to Jake's, and a man with a buzzcut and a rather grim expression. Dominic and Makki stood in front of the troop, expecting to be introduced. Their expectation was soon met and Owen introduced the three people with him. Jake was only twenty-one, but had already been through a lot. His cousins had been invited to his grandfather's island in '93, and returned back to the island two years later. It was because of his grandfather that they were killed. His parents told him the story when he was five, and they died in a car-wreck when he was thirteen. Alexis Garcia was his sister and they were nearly identical in looks, but not in personality. Alexis was nineteen, but had aged too fast. She was quiet and kept mostly to herself, but when she did talk, it usually had a large impact. She acknowledged Dominic and Makki with a nod of her head. Last to be introduced was Leo, his face fashioned into a grim frown. Owen said he used to be a poacher in Africa, but after a betrayal by his own leader, he went on to being a park ranger in Kenya. He was now hunting for his leader, which was, coincidentally, Winter. They had all agreed to find Winter and hunt her down; for one reason or another.

"Well," Jake said, holding his cigarette between his teeth and clapping his hands. "All that's left now is to fly to the island and shoot or get shot at. Owen has a friend, a pilot, down in Costa Rica who will be flying us to the island." A cheerful grin spread on his face as he said this, winking back at his sister. She returned his wink with a dramatic eye roll, causing his grin to grow.

Owen looked at both of them and turned to Dominic and Makki. "I have booked a room for everyone at the Red Roof Inn. Tomorrow we will head to the airport, making our way to Puntarenas. Leo and I will go together, and Jake and Alexis will take you both," he said before turning to walk out the entrance. Leo followed behind him silently.

Dominic watched them as they passed by. Leo noticed his gaze, and raised a single challenging brow. Dominic broke eye contact, in favour of studying the floor. It wasn't until they had both walked out of the door that Dominic realized that he would have to spend about another half-hour with Jake and groaned inwardly. With a sigh, he turned to Makki, Alexis and Jake. "I suggest we leave now," he said, his irritation made evident. He looked directly at Jake when he said this, but Jake continued smoking as if he didn't care. Dominic then looked at Makki as if he would tell her to do something as a master instructs his dog. Makki read his face well enough to know to walk over and stand with Alexis who didn't even look up from the phone she silently pulled out. Dominic was getting pissed off, and his face made it evident. He walked over to Jake and stuck out his hand, barely able to control his anger.

"We're leaving," he said, and had gotten angrier upon seeing the smirk on Jake's face. He had only met Jake forty-five minutes ago, and yet he already hated him.

Jake pulled out the keys from the back pocket of his jeans and waved them teasingly in front of Dominic's face. "Ok," he said. "Let's go." Jake walked around Dominic, who put down his hand, and went to sit in the jeep. Makki looked around, not knowing what to do, but upon hearing the engine turn over, she followed Jake's example and went to the jeep. Dominic looked at Alexis, hoping to see that she would at least have some sense. She was just putting her phone away when she looked at Dominic and shrugged before walking out. With a sigh expressing annoyance, Dominic turned around and walked out the doors to the jeep. He saw Makki and Alexis sitting in the backseat and opened the passenger door. He was greeted by a, "What took you so long?" by Jake and did his best to ignore it.

"Just go, Jake," Alexis said from the backseat, trying to help Dominic out.

"Fine, fine," Jake replied, raising his hands in mock surrender before turning on the radio (and blasting the volume) and driving off.

Much to Dominic's relief, the next twenty-five minutes passed by with next to no conversation, except for the subtle comments made by Makki. When Jake finally pulled into a parking stall, Dominic practically hopped out of the jeep and headed inside the Red Roof Inn. Jake took notice of this and rolled his eyes, and Makki, feeling thoroughly embarrassed, kept trying to apologize. Jake just brushed it off, saying it was fine, told the two girls to hurry up, locked the jeep then followed in after Dominic. When the three of them had entered the lobby and Jake got their room information, the desk clerk asked if they were a group of four.

"Yeah, why?" Jake answered. "You talking about Dominic?"

"Yes, he's across the hall from you and next to Miss Adair. Just wanted to let you know." she responded.

"Okay, thanks then." Jake said before walking off. _So, he was next to Lexi and across from Mr. Hothead. How enjoyable,_ he thought, Makki and Alexis following in his wake.

Makki stood in the doorframe of Dominic's room, waiting for him to turn around or take notice of her presence. She didn't care that he raised her after her parents died or that she was younger than him. She liked Jake but didn't like the way Dominic treated him; in her eyes, he was ruining everything. She wanted to tell him off.

"Why _do_ you hate him?" she asked, striking up her argument.

"Aren't you next door?" Dominic responded without turning around, avoiding her question. He felt no reason to explain himself. He didn't much like Jake trying to attract Makki like nectar attracts flies.

"Fine. But you're not going to do anything to ruin everything, just like you always do," she responded, her anger evident.

"This time tomorrow we'll be heading to an island with dinosaurs and mercenaries. I'll have more important things on my mind to worry about you and Jake," he said, telling her to leave in his own dismissive way.

Wild winds whipped Dominic's hair and clothing around as Leo and himself loaded freeze-dried food, tents, machetes, automatics, tranquilizers and ammunition into the Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk. Owen's friend, a local pilot, shouted at them in Spanish to hurry up; a storm was coming in, and it wouldn't be safe to fly through it. He would leave the next morning to bring back extra supplies. Rain was beginning to splatter on the canopy and the two men and the rotors began to whir, picking up speed.

"Ok, let's go!" Leo shouted as he climbed in the cabin, Dominic following behind him. Owen was situated in the cockpit as the co-pilot next to their pilot, Juan Esteban. Leo checked to make sure that everything was ready and that they had enough fuel for a round trip; he tapped Owen on the shoulder and gave him a thumbs-up. Owen returned the gesture and told Juan that they could head for the island. The helicopter started to rise and Leo sat between Dominic and Jake, facing Alexis and Makki at the back near the tail. He flipped the hood of his leather hooded vest, before leaning back, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. It would be an hour trip; might as well everyone get comfortable. Makki looked uneasily at Alexis, then stared out her window. Alexis was already facing hers with her eyes closed. Dominic reached for the rucksack that was between his feet and pulled out a dog-eared book about natural sciences. Jake was listening to rock music, his headphones in his ears.

Owen looked out the plexi bubble before hearing a faint beeping. He focussed his attention to the numerous dials, flips and switches in front of him. The fuel gauge was on empty and there was a problem with the tail rotor. Confused, Owen looked to Juan.

"Hey Juan, take a look at this. We're not going to have enough fuel to land safely and the tail rotor is failing."

Juan looked at it and cursed in Spanish. "We're going to have to go in for a crash landing." He then looked back out the plexi bubble before pointing at the mountain looming out of the tropical mist in front of them.

"Jesus Christ!" Owen exclaimed while shouting at Juan to move. Barely missing the mountain, the nose of the chopper tilted down towards the ground. The foliage rushed up to meet them.

 **Chapter 4:**

Winter stared at the dark trees in front of her, her fingers weaving her wet hair into the classical Dutch plait she wore so often. A dying fire flickered in the center of her camp, illuminating the tents of her men. She had moved her camp twice within the last three days: their first campsite was attacked; compys disposed of two of her guys. The second time was just a precaution. Although, there was a plus to all the moving around: she was able to cage a juvenile gallimimus and two adult male compys. She was planning what she would get her men to do today. She had something big in mind.

"Went for a midnight swim?" Butch asked, coming up behind her. "Mm," was all he got as a reply. He stood behind Winter, feeling the invisible blanket of tension.

"You can't sleep either?" she asked without turning around, just tying off the end of her waist-length hair. When she did not get an answer, she turned around and saw Butch facing away from her, fidgeting with something in his hands. Each time he flicked his thumb, it made a click. The same click one hears when pulling back the hammer on a revolver. Winter stood next to him, trying to see what he was doing.

"What're you up to?" Winter asked, curiously concerned. Butch was obviously uneasy. "We're going to get some big game tomorrow," she said, changing the subject, attempting to lighten his mood.

"You're welcome," Butch answered. He had only realized his mistake when he saw the puzzled, yet amused look Winter gave him. "Oh, wait-Sorry," Butch said, a blush colouring his cheeks, and a small smile on his face. His smile fully formed once he saw Winter laughing satirically. He rolled his eyes, but clearly didn't mean it.

"So, what's wrong?" Winter asked, finally settled. Butch looked at her before taking his hand that had been buried in his pocket out, something in his hold.

"Umm..Here" he said, thrusting his hand forward. "I thought you might like this," he added still avoiding her gaze.

Winter took it from him and examined it. One could see that 'it' was an Apache centerfire revolver: a combination of a brass knuckle, a blade and a revolver in one.

"Butch, I…" she trailed off, almost in a daze. "Thank you," she finally said, flattered, her smile growing. "What's the occasion?" she asked curiously, looking back at him.

"Well...Every Prince...Has to have their princess," he replied, meeting her gaze.

"Wait..." Winter said, turning thoughts over in her mind. "Are you trying to propose?" she asked bluntly, studying his face. He tensed his shoulders upon hearing her words, before relaxing, letting out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

Closing the three inch gap between them, he placed his hands around the back of Winter's neck, pulling her in. He slowly pressed his lips to her forehead, just above her eyebrows. She closed her eyes, listening and matching her breathing to his. Seconds go by, but it felt like hours for Winter.

Butch finally pulled away from her face, his hands still around the back of her neck. He gave her a long look, his eyes searching hers for any sign of harmony with his actions, before dropping his hands and heading towards the tent he was in, not looking back. Winter watched him, feeling the heat rise in her face. She walked back to log she was standing in front of and sat down, deciding to study the gift Butch gave her. She looked at every aspect of it, getting the feel of the brass knuckles and thumbing the cylinder before flipping out the blade, noticing the engravings there:

 _'_ _W. Prince'_

She stood up, alone in the dark, filled with awe and happiness, but was hit with the sudden realization that Butch had thought that she rejected him. Guilt washed over her like a wave washes upon the sand. An idea occurred to her, and she put the revolver in her back pocket and headed toward Butch's tent. Before entering, she put a scowl on her face. "Butch? Bring a gun and let's go," she commanded, poking her head in. She could see that he was sitting with his back to her, his head down. Attempting to push her guilt aside, she drew her head back out, made sure she had her automatic and a tranquilizer pistol, and without seeing if he was following, headed to the edge of their camp. She began moving forward after hearing the familiar footfalls that were Butch's. Soon she began jogging, trying to cover distance. Her intended destination was about an hour walk, maybe a half-hour run. She could could hear Butch's short breaths as he jogged behind her. She allowed herself a small smile before turning her jog into a sprint. She knew he would keep up.

Before long, the two reached a cluster of trees, grateful to be given a break from the whacking tree branches, flies buzzing everywhere. The smell of rotting flesh filled the air and Winter could see a torn-up carcass not far from where they were standing. She turned her head to Butch, motioning with her fingers to be quiet. Guns in hand, they stealthily moved forward, scouting the area around them for any signs of the adult male. Upon seeing a pile of branches, leaves and mud, they crept towards it with the ease of panthers. When they were close enough to look in the pile, they saw a sleeping juvenile t-rex. It was clear that the adult male was gone. Pulling three darts from her back pocket, Winter loaded her tranquilizer pistol, and without hesitation, shot the juvenile. It woke, it's eyes wide with shock and fear, and began thrashing before falling limp. Leaning into the nest, she picked up the juvenile, grunting with the effort; it was heavier than she judged it to be. Placing it on the ground, she pulled at the darts, then looked at Butch.

"Go ahead. You know what to do,"she said.

Butch looked at her and without responding, he knelt down, and held the juvenile's leg. He positioned it on his knee, one hand holding the femur, the other holding the foot. He pushed down with both hands, causing the bones to snap and break. With a sigh, he put the now-broken leg down and stood up, wiping his hands on his jungle fatigues, avoiding Winter's gaze.

She walked over to the juvenile t-rex and picked it up, carrying it in her arms, her automatic at her hip and her pistol in one of her many pockets. She began walking forward before Butch stepped in front of her.

"I'll carry it," he offered, his arms stretched out.

" lead,"Winter replied, letting the juvenile fall out her arms and into his, trying to meet his gaze.

Butch nodded, taking the juvenile, his rifle slung over his shoulder. He started moving forward, Winter stood there, watching his back, turning her head to make sure they weren't being tracked. Satisfied that they weren't, she jogged to catch up with him. She kept a few feet behind him, then stopped, feeling another presence. She looked around, pulling out her automatic. Suddenly, a pair of hands clamped onto her mouth and her nose, holding in place a damp cloth. A sickly sweet, ether-like aroma filled her nose and she began clawing for air when she realized what was happening. Then, another pair of hands locked onto her wrists, making her drop her gun, causing her to struggle harder. She started kicking out before the colourful lights blinked in her eyes, the edges of her vision turning black. She began to go limp, and as she fell towards the ground, she caught a glimpse of one of the faces of her captors: Chris White.

... _Six, seven, eight, nine, ten._ Winter had panicked. That was the only reason she was in this situation. _Idiot!_ she thought to herself as she opened her eyes. She tried to move her wrists, but realized she was wearing a pair of flexi cuffs. _Crap._ She took a deep breath, and smelled the sweet aroma of chloroform. The very smell made her feel nauseas. She sat up, trying to figure out where she was and saw a small fire and a pile of weapons. Her weapons.

"It's been a while, Winter," a voice said.

"Hello, Chris. You look good. What's new?" she replied, turning her head to look at him, her voice steady. Anger stole her fear.

"Not much. Just been chasing you halfway around the world," Chris answered, his steely eyes locking onto hers. She could smell alcohol on his breath. "Our biggest problem is about to be dealt with." He pulled out a black handgun, the barrel in his hand. He raised his arm, then smashed the butt against her temple, causing her to crumple to the ground. Barely conscious, Winter gasped for breath, her vision sliding in and out of focus.

"I didn't think Owen would give me the privilege of killing you," Chris said after loading his gun, a smirk in his voice.

Winter heard a shot ring out before seeing Chris fall next to her, his sightless eyes staring into hers. A figure approached her, knelt down and picked her up, her head by their shoulder. She saw the viper tattoo and felt the steady rocking motion of being carried before losing consciousness.

Winter woke due to a throbbing headache and the feel of someone stroking her hair. The rosy pink of dawn was just beginning to creep over the treetops and make its way to the jungle floor. She looked around, seeing that she was situated in Butch's lap and in front of her, her weapons. She breathed out a sigh of relief. Upon hearing her stir, Butch tensed and put his hand down, no longer stroking her hair.

"You don't have to stop," Winter said quietly, wanting to feel the weight of his hand on her head again. Butch soon resumed the caressing motion and the two sat in silence. A few minutes went by before Winter spoke again. "You know, I never said no."

Butch looked down at her, his eyebrows raised in an expression of confusion, not wanting to let himself believe what she was saying. He still watched her as she stood up, facing him. Winter placed a hand on his cheek, leaned in and kissed him on his forehead on the same spot where he kissed her. She pulled away, her hand still on his cheek and said, "Being a princess doesn't sound so bad." Butch looked at her, realizing that she had accepted his proposal. She leaned in again, this time hugging him, her arms wrapped around his neck. He hugged her back, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Thank you. How did you find me?" she asked, voicing the question on her mind, dropping her arms and falling next to him.

He held her gaze, a soft smile forming on his lips. Breaking eye contact, he then brought up his hand and scratched the back of his head. "I didn't hear your footsteps, and when I turned around, I saw your automatic and two other sets of footprints. I left the juvenile here and when I followed you, I saw two guys, one sitting on a log and the other pacing behind him and you unconscious on the ground. I broke the first guy's neck then shot the guy on the log...Then got you and your stuff."

Winter looked at her weapons and noticed the Apache revolver was on top of the pile then back at Butch. She gave him a weak smile before throwing her arm around his shoulder, bringing him in for another hug.

She didn't let go of him until they heard the reverberating roar of the adult male tyrannosaur. The two exchanged a look after hearing cries of pain and terror and jumped to their feet. Winter stumbled, feeling dizzy, and fell onto her hands and knees.

"You okay?" Butch asked her, one arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her to her feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, accompanying her response with a nod. She then headed for the pile of weapons, throwing the Apache revolver in her back pocket and the darts and tranquilizer pistol in the pocket at her hip. She buckled her machete at her waist and held her automatic, prepared for the danger bound to come. She looked at Butch, seeing him pick up the juvenile, his rifle slung over his shoulder once more.

"We have the canisters?" Winter asked him,starting to jog. That was the only way they could bring down the buck without killing it: heavy sedatives.

"Yeah, four MORO-709's. Standard tranq rifle," Butch answered, following behind her. Without wasting time, the two headed towards the source of the cries of both man and dinosaur. It would take them up to fifteen minutes to reach camp and put an end to the chaos.

Winter skidded to a halt at the edge of a tent-filled clearing, a buck tyrannosaur causing death to some of her men. "Where is the rifle and canisters?" She asked, turning to Butch. He motioned with a jerk of his head that they were in his tent. Shoving her automatic in her holster, she ran to his tent, pushing aside the flap. She soon saw a waterproof Halliburton case containing the canisters of MORO-709, and the tranq rifle. She snapped off the tip of two and screwed a needle on each. She put one canister in the rifle, loading 1000 cc's, and clipped the second canister onto one of her many pockets. Clambering out of the tent, she balanced the rifle on her shoulder, controlled her breathing, and aimed for a spot behind the auditory meatus. Exhaling, she pulled the trigger and with a burst of pale gas, saw the canister make contact with the tyrannosaur. But being hit only seemed to throw the dinosaur into a rage and it opened its large jaws and bellowed, shaking the trees.

Winter cursed under her breath as she loaded the second canister and repeated the controlled process. Seeing no direct effect of the tranquilizers, she threw down the rifle and pulled out her automatic.

"Get all firearms and shoot! Aim for legs and hips!" she shouted at her men. They had panicked enough and they needed to bring the rex down without harming it too much. Butch came up next to her, the juvenile forgotten. He positioned his hunting rifle on his shoulder, aiming for the bottom of the legs, Winter doing the same. Two minutes or so go by when the rex let out a moan before slumping over and falling forwards, the ground shaking. One of its arms was twitching. Gun still in hand, Winter approached the dinosaur's scaly gray head, nudging it with her foot.

"How much you give it?" Butch asked, standing next to her.

"Two-thousand cc's. Enough to keep it under for three days," she replied, observing her prize. "Now we have a juvenile and a buck." She faced Butch, dropping her gun and grabbing his shoulders. "A BUCK!" She said, practically shouting. With a wide smile, he fastened his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a small circle. As he put Winter down, she leaned forward and kissed him, feeling the warmth of his lips against hers. Hugging her closer, Butch kissed her back, neither wanting to let the other go. They soon did though, aware of the stares of the seventeen men around them.

Winter realized four had been killed when the buck attacked her camp. She turned around seeing, as if for the first time, the mauled bodies sprawled on the ground. She looked at Butch, then the remaining men with a pained and grave expression, acknowledging the four men's deaths. Winter opened and closed her mouth, searching for words to address the deaths. She clenched her jaw, keeping quiet.

Butch raised a hand, commanding stillness.

"A moment of silence for the lost."

 **Chapter 5:**

The blackhawk was on its side, the tail broken off, and the rotors bent at odd angles. Morning sun glinted off its sleek, black surface and flies buzzed around, looking for a way to penetrate the steely armour.

Owen opened his eyes, blinking in the harsh sunlight, feeling a stabbing pain in his skull. Realizing that he was on his side, he rolled over, sat up, and groaned. Taking in a deep breath and the sight around him, he saw his friend, Juan, dead. The memory of the last few hours hit him in the face like a bus, and he looked around, almost frantic with worry when he didn't see Jake or Leo. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Dominic unconscious and Mac Tire Gearg dabbing a cloth on a Alexis's forehead, attempting to clean a cut. She heard Owen stir,giving him a pleading look, her red hair in a frenzy. Owen stood and tried walking over to where the two sat.

"Where's Jake and Leo? What happened to her?" he asked, gesturing with his head towards Alexis; big mistake. He brought his hand up to his head, his vision swimming as he sat down next to them.

"Leo and Jake went to find whatever they could that would possibly be useful. I don't know what happened to Alexis. When I saw her, she was slumped over with a bloody gash on the side of her head," Makki answered, turning her attention back to Alexis's head.

"Oh," Owen said in turn. "Where did you get that cloth? It might not be safe to use it. Let me see what else there is." He dug around in the door the for a first aid kit. Successful in his endeavor, he pulled out a small white box and popped open the lid. He took out a disinfectant wipe, guaze, and a pair of forceps. He handed them to Makki to properly fix Alexis's head. Taking the medical supplies, she cleaned the head wound and covered it with the guaze, leaving the forceps untouched. As she handed them back to Owen, Dominic moaned, his eyes opening.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, clearly not in a good mood.

"Good morning to you too, sweetheart," Jake replied, entering the crash site, carrying an armload of dry wood, Leo silently following behind him. He was carrying different things in his arms what looked like some fruits and nuts. Dominic frowned at Jake.

"So, while you two were getting your beauty sleep, Leo and I found some firewood, edible food and there's a stream nearby," Jake said before looking at Makki, his gaze filled with concern. "How is she?" he asked, referring to Alexis.

"I don't know. She still hasn't woken, but Owen helped a bit," she answered, turning her head to the girl next to her.

"Give me a minute," Jake said, dashing out of the blackhawk and the crash site, taking with him a bent piece of metal shaped like a bowl.

Makki exchanged a look with Owen as Leo placed the items he was carrying next to Jake's firewood. Dominic sat there quietly, his arms crossed over his chest. As he opened his mouth to make a comment, Jake reappeared, the metal bowl filled water. He dumped most of the water on Alexis and the rest on Dominic. She opened her eyes, gasping and Dominic sputtered and cursed as the water drenched the front of his shirt.

"What the hell was that for?!" he shouted at Jake.

"Sorry. You still looked asleep," he answered, shrugging his shoulders, hiding a smile. He turned back to Alexis and placed a hand on her forehead. "Como te sientas? Como esta tu cabeza?" He asked.

"Mejor ahora, subongo," she answered, pulling his hand away from her face. He smiled and punched her lightly on her shoulder before pulling her to her feet. The two then turned back to the other four, only to be met with awed expressions, except Leo. Leo sat with a small smirk on his face.

"I didn't know you spoke spanish," Makki commented.

"You don't have an accent," Dominic criticized.

"My Dad was from Mexico, and not all hispanic people have accents," Jake retorted, a fire growing in his eyes, his voice firm. "Did you guys check to make sure everything's intact?" he asked, looking at Owen, changing the subject.

"No, I didn't get a chance yet. I hope at least the guns, knives and ammo are still compliant," he answered, his eyes shifting to what was left of the cargo hold. "Let's see what we can still put to use." He walked out of the slight shade of the blackhawk towards the back where the 'cargo' was positioned. He yanked on the hatch and stumbled backwards when it popped loose. Strewn over the floor of the hold were guns, machetes, balisongs, tranquilizer pistols, boxes of ammunition, darts, sat phones, a first aid kit, MRE's and freeze-dried food. Everything looked to be intact and useable.

"I think we can still use everything. Now, what do we do about Juan?" Owen asked, looking from one face to another. If they left Juan there, he would likely attract _predators_ , endangering everyone.

"We should burn 'im," Jake said, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it, sticking it between his lips.

Dominic and Owen sat next to each other as a bonfire burned in the center of the small clearing. They looked over to where the rest of their party was sitting only to see Jake and Leo sitting next to the two girls, ignoring them both. Jake's arm was across Leo's shoulder and he was talking and laughing while Leo watched, a big grin on his face.

Owen looked at Dominic, seeing him staring at Leo and Jake. "They've always been real close. Jake is probably the only person I've seen Leo smile around. Lexi can get a few out of him though," he said, calling Dominic's attention.

"I really hate that man," Dominic said, turning his head, referring to Jake. He turned his body around, fully facing Owen. "Did you always work for government?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in question.

"In more than one way, yes. Sergeant Owen Grady, ex-military, at your service," Owen answered, raising a hand to his head in mock salute.

Dominic widened his eyes before opening his mouth again. "Why did you decide to do this?" he asked, talking about hunting hunters.

Owen studied his face before answering. "We were ambushed one day and a few friends and I were honourably discharged. One of them had been Winter. After I was discharged, she killed my brother. I made sure I'd find her. And here we are," he said, a hungry determination in his eyes.

"So this thing with Winter is personal then," Dominic said, catching on.

"More or less," Owen responded, observing the patches of sky through the canopy, standing up. "We should probably sleep. Big day tomorrow. I don't want to linger here." He turned around to tell Jake that they were to rest.

The group of six trudged in a line through the thick foliage, trying to avoid vines, roots and biting insects, leaving the crash site behind. The unforgiving glare of the afternoon sun scolded them. They had shoved what they could into backpacks and rucksacks, guns slung over shoulders, or tucked into waistbands, knives stuffed in pockets. A tropical fog hugged the ground, swirling around their feet. Owen, at the front of the line, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm before stopping abruptly. He studied the ground in front of him, seeing a trail of blood and a boot. He slowly walked forward, parting some bushes, revealing a mauled figure that may have been human once. Flies buzzed over the torn up carcass and the guts lying in a heap on the ground. Not far from the body lay a blood-soaked head. Owen was soon crowded by the rest of his company, although Alexis stood a fair distance away, the sound of her vomiting breaking the silence. Makki walked over to her, patting her back awkwardly.

"Let's keep moving. There's nothing we can do here," Owen said, turning his back and walking away. The group followed behind him, Alexis and Makki walking at the back, chatting quietly. Before they had walked one kilometer, the sound of branches snapping and breaking filled the air. Owen pulled out his balisong, the others pulling out weapons of their own. However, he gave a startled ? when a larger group of men and women broke through the foliage around them.

"Owen? That you?" one of them called out, stepping forward. "What happened?" the man asked. Arnold Davis stepped forward, slapping Owen on the back. "We heard a crash and figured it must've been you guys. Didn't know what the hell you were doing. We came over to where we saw a trail of smoke but you guys weren't there," he said, a thick Jamaican accent coating his voice.

"Good to see you, too, Davis. Yeah, damn chopper crashed. No point staying there." Owen turned back to his five companions. "You guys can put you arms down. Friends not foes. Where's Chris?" he asked, turning back to Arnold.

"Him and Rick. Dead."

"Winter?"

Owen was answered with a head nod and swore under his breath. "Any good news?" he asked.

As a response, someone threw Arnold a gray brick of clay, two wires dangling from the bottom. "Yeah. Found the remains of some old buildings and C-4. We disabled some, but not all of them." He handed the clump to Owen to observe it. He passed it to Leo, who was shifting uncomfortably. Leo then threw it to Jake, passing it down the line of people.

"Take us to the buildings," Owen commanded, handing the C-4 back to Arnold.

Arnold shouted to the group of now thirteen people to get a move on to the decaying structures. Before long, the posse reached some old, gray buildings spreading out to observe them. The group that came with Arnold was closest to the structures, studying every inch of them. Alexis began walking forward, Jake following behind her. As soon as she placed her hand on a hidden brick of C-4, an explosion erupted and blew almost everyone backward, some people flying into trees, others feeling the blazing heat of the flames as they engulfed them. Jake held his now burnt arm, trying to race into the flames to find Alexis. He wouldn't allow the truth of his sister's death to enter his mind. Leo held him by his elbow, restraining him from the embrace of the flames. "She's gone," he whispered in Jake's ear, his grip loosening ever so slightly. "We focus now on the living. See who we can save."

Jake sank to his knees, accepting the grief now clutching at his heart. Leo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, telling him now was not the time or place for grieving. To prove his point, he helped Jake to his feet and half-dragged him away from the now dying fire. They made their way to the Owen, Dominic and Makki, who were too far away to be affected by the explosion. Some, but not many of Arnold's group remained standing by Owen, who looked at Jake with a hard to read expression.

"Lexi's gone," Jake half sobbed.

"Serves her right. She probably triggered the whole - explosion!" Owen spat, clearly angry.

Jake looked at him with a look of shock which quickly turned to pure hatred before punching him hard in the jaw. "Shut up!" Jake roared, lunging at him before Leo stepped in front of him, shaking his head.

He turned Jake around, forcing him to face the red flames and the now orange sky. Night would be upon them soon. "He'll get what he deserves. I promise," he said, consoling Jake. He was answered with a quick nod. The two turned around, Leo addressing Owen. "We should keep moving. The fire and smoke will have given us away. Not just the night will prey on us." He guided Jake by the shoulder through the cluster of former soldiers and headed through a thick tangle of trees, the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon behind them.

 **Chapter 6:**

Winter crouched, Butch and her men at her side, hidden from the group of nine in front of them. Cloaks of darkness hid them, thought it was still easy to see movement. She held up three fingers, letting her men know that she alone would step out of the cover of foliage. She stood up and approached the pathetically small group in front of them, a wicked smile on her face. She was pleased to hear the shouts of shock before she emitted a loud, bird-like chirp from the back of her throat. She crouched down once more as two large creatures leapt over her head, charging the group in front of her. These creatures were the same two velociraptors she drugged. They were 'programmed' to hunt and kill Owen. Her plan was already working well: the raptors caused chaos and panic among Owen's group, triggering them to scatter. It would be useless though. Her men already had them surrounded. They were ordered to kill, but Owen was hers. Screams and gunshots soon filled the air as she headed back to where Butch was waiting for her.

"We're going to circle around, behind Owen. C'mon," she said, pulling out her automatic. She started jogging, Butch following behind her, watching their backs. The screams and gunshots echoed around her and one sounded louder than the rest, but she thought nothing of it; Owen was outnumbered.

She no longer heard Butch's familiar tread, but didn't turn around until she didn't hear his response to her question. She turned around and saw a figure lying in the long grass.

"Butch?" Winter called feebly, approaching and kneeling down next to him. A dim spot of red stained the front of his camo shirt. She put her gun in back in her holster before ripping open the front of his shirt. She saw the bullet wound and the blood slowly flowing down the center of his strong chest. A small sob escaped her throat as she pulled Butch's head into her lap, tears running down her face.

"It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay," she whispered more to herself than to him. She knew he was going to die. She rocked back and forth, brushing his hair out of his eyes, the tears still streaming down her face. Butch brought a hand up to her, caressing her face. Winter gave a sad smile, still stroking his hair. "You'll be fine," she whispered to him again. He locked his eyes onto hers, before breathing a laugh, a smile on his face. One of Winter's tears fell on his face before his hand went limp, falling to the jungle floor. She looked at him with a disbelieving expression before sobbing with grief.

"God damn you!" she shouted at him, almost shaking him, her hands pressed to his face. She brought her lips to his forehead, her tears falling on his face."I love you," she whispered before standing up.

She knew who killed Butch. She saw him, even if she didn't want to see. She would find Owen and she would kill him.

She ran out of where she was hidden with Butch and was almost immediately a target. A handgun was pointed at her chest, the man operating it pulling back the hammer. As a response, Winter grabbed his wrist and broke it, leaving the men howling in pain. He kicked outward and she held his leg, twisting it, forcing him to give his back to her. She hit him with the side of her hand at the back of his neck before resting her jaw on his shoulder. With a smile, she brought up both hands and with a powerful jerk of her arms, snapped his neck. The body fell lifelessly to the ground. She began looking around for another challenger to step into the ring when Owen gave a shout. Him and his group were running from the clearing like the cowards they were. Winter pulled out her automatic and fired three times into the air, the signal to cease fire.

" _Sh-t,_ " she muttered under her breath. Owen got away with four other survivors. As he left the clearing, Winter called in her men, intending to do a head count. They started out with seventeen men, but when she finished counting, she realized there were now nine, including herself. She thought about what she would be able to do with her remaining numbers. _Screw the dinosaurs,_ she thought. The two raptors lay dead on the jungle floor.

"Set up a perimeter near our camp. Steel bear traps and nets. You and Shot stay there and watch for Owen and the younger boy. Kill the others," she said, turning to Trigger, who had a bloody cut on the side of his head. Trigger responded with a simple head nod before pulling Shot with him into the thick foliage. "The rest of you will wait at camp for the ambush. You have no permission to leave. Leave the dead," she addressed the last of her group. "We are going to end this."

 **Chapter 7:**

A hissing and spitting fire sat in the center of the small group being lectured.

"Five. Only five of us left! And we're not any closer to finishing this. Is it beyond your capabilities to dispatch a thirty-year woman?" Owen asked, yelling at the four people sitting with him.

"Tonight, we go back to her camp. I found it after the fight, night before yesterday as we were leaving," said the last of Chris's men, Arnav, a determined frown on his face. "Let's go. Right now, while there's still light."

Owen looked around the circle, his eyes skimming over each face in turn, staring with Makki's and ending with Leo's.

"I think we should go and end this before we are the hunted. She is at an advantage, though, if you cut the head of the snake-" Jake piped up, trailing off, expecting Owen to finish the phrase.

"Body dies, I agree. Bring guns and knives. We'll need the weapons," Owen responded, standing up and stamping out the fire.

Makki, Leo, Jake and Arnav stood up, slinging guns over shoulders and hoisting their backpacks on their backs and forming a line. Owen stood in the back, Arnav in front, leading the way to Winter's camp, the sinking sun at their backs.

"Watch where you step. The chances of this area being rigged are quite high, considering how close we are," Owen warned Arnav, examining the vine covered ground in front of them. Leo, Jake and Makki were waiting further back for the two men's 'ok'.The very next step he took resulted in his stepping into a steel bear trap, the metal jaws clamping around his ankle. A sickening crunch filled the air as well as his shouts of pain. "Yeah...Definitely watch...where….you're….stepping," he said, his groans punctuating the words in his sentence.

"Here, let me help," Arnav said, approaching Owen. As he put his left foot down, he was jerked into the air, dangling by one foot. "Well, this is a fine mess we're in," he said, loud enough for the trio behind them to hear, warning them. The blood began rushing to his face, the colour leaving Owen's. His pant leg was slowly turning darker with his blood as he tried to pry the steel jaws apart.


End file.
